


the taste of glass

by claudia smallman (aleenya)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleenya/pseuds/claudia%20smallman
Summary: nobody will ever tell you what glass tastes like.neither will i.





	the taste of glass

Nobody will ever tell you what glass tastes like.

* * *

It began with a shard,

a fragment

that just so happened to pass my lips.

It tapped my gums

with its pointed nail,

and under that sharp,

scathing touch

I tasted salt.

* * *

I bled

as you do

when glass cuts your tongue. 

My blood felt warm; 

my pain pierced bright -

and I realized then

that what I craved,

what I needed,

was all around me.

I need only look.

* * *

The next time it happened,

I knew well what I was doing

and so,

I bit down on my cup

until cracks crept up its silver flesh.

When it finally shattered

between my teeth,

my mouth bloomed red

and my lips dripped skin.

* * *

When the blood in my mouth

had crusted and dried

and hardened to black concrete,

the rot took my breath

and filled the gaps in my teeth,

whose pearl skins were now broken

and soiled

and cracked

(like glass.)

* * *

I saw then

the rosy lips

of men and women who knew not my habit;

whose mouths breathed petals

and whose tongues held gardens.

In the mirror

glared my reflection

(how ironic)

and in that moment,

I took my fist

to the face that stared back at me –

and smashed that mirror into tiny,

tiny

pieces.

* * *

When I saw what I had done,

I knelt down

and placed a speck of glass 

on my tongue.

Before I knew it,

I had eaten myself full

and the reminder of my gluttony

lay in bloody pinpoints 

embedded into my gums.

* * *

It ended with a shard,

a fragment,

that by no accident passed my lips. 

When it was over,

my stomach had become a sea of reflecting silver

and my mouth a graveyard

ridden with bones.

* * *

Nobody will ever tell you what glass tastes like.

Neither will I.


End file.
